She likes strawberries
by Gothicpug
Summary: When a well known Merc dies on a job, Victor Creed takes an interest in his small daughter, who sadly, has no interest in him until he finds her weakness for fruit.
1. Chapter 1

**She likes Strawberries.**

**I do not own the characters Victor Creed or Birdy **

* * *

"So, Explain what we're doing here again boss?" Birdy asked as she drove into the almost empty parking lot at nearly midnight.

"'Cos I'm actually gonna do somethin'..." Sabretooth paused in his answering, searching for the right word.

"Nice."

Birdy glanced back at her boss more than a little worried by his choice in words.

She knew it would be a cold day in hell before Victor Creed did something '_Nice_'. She knew it probably had some more to do with the death of a popular merc. A guy Creed had worked with on a couple of occasions. Birdy had met the man a couple of times and found him to be a very unusual guy for the job.

He'd been friendly, charming and an all round nice guy. He was a family man too from what she remembered, who kept a picture of his late wife and baby daughter in his wallet.

But despite all of that, he held himself amazingly well against sabretooth.

How Mr Creed felt about that was something of a mystery to Birdy. He either respected him for it, or thought he was a stupid fuck.

Probably the latter.

"So...We're at the court house, why?" she asked leaning forward to look through the windscreen at the large building they were slowly approaching.

Sabretooth rolled his eyes.

"Hell girl! Don't ya ever stop with the questions?" He began to fidget in the passenger seat, brushing out invisible creases from his LV suit.

"We're goin ta pick up a kid." He grumbled.

"A WHAT?" Birdy gasped, slamming on the brakes, almost sending Creed through the windscreen. Birdy's head bounced off the steering wheel, earning a yelp.

Once both were over the initial impact, Sabretooth lashed out.

"Fuckin' frail!" he roared, socking the smaller woman in the side of the head. "What the fuck ya do that fer?"

Birdy whimpered in response. This kind of abuse was regular, but that didn't stop it from hurting.

"Just drive frail. We're late as it is." Victor huffed, checking his watch. Birdy, reluctantly, did as she was told.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The grey haired receptionist paused for a moment to look over the rims of her glasses at the tiny girl sat on the wooden bench not far from her desk.

Feelings of pity and sadness swelled in the older woman's chest as she thought about the poor girl misfortune. Through no fault of her own, she'd lost her parents and was now left with no one and was now looking at an uncertain future. If no relatives could be traced, which sadly the old woman thought looking back at the papers on her desk, looked the case; the girl would have to be sent to a shelter of some sort.

The little girl's expression was unreadable from where the woman sat. Straight faced, with shoulder length dark brown hair falling loose around her face, framing her pale skin.

She'd make a pretty girl one day.

The old receptionist shook her head as she looked back at her papers. Pretty, parentless girls fell into drugs and prostitution in the shelters. The little girl's future looked dark indeed.

She was dressed in the clothes from her father's funeral, having been brought to the court house straight after by her fathers solicitor. He was still in his office across from where little Layla sat, behind the receptionist who kept looking at her funny.

Her daddy had always been there to make sure she was ok. To sit with her in strange places like this, with strange people. Layla guessed she'd have to get used to not having that protection now. She was almost 6 now; she could look after herself by now, couldn't she? Daddy had always said she could.

Layla watched her feet dangle over the edge of the bench. She was the smallest in her class at school. She hated being the smallest. But her daddy had told her it gave her attitude. She didn't get what he meant, but he was proud of it, she knew that.

It was almost 12:25am when the door swung open, sending a freezing breeze over Layla, who shuddered.

"Fer Fuck sake frail. Stop with the whinin'. If ya head hurts, it's ya own fault fer being stupid." Someone's deep voice growled from down the hallway.

Layla sat up, gazing down the hall to the huge man in a suit who was fast approaching her. She couldn't even see who he was talking to behind him for the mass of muscle the man seemed to have over his chest and shoulders.

If she wasn't pale enough as it was, Layla would have gone white.

The monster of a man stopped just in front of her, staring down with intense blue eyes, brighter than her own pale blue ones.

Layla stared back with wide eyes, more than a little scared by this person.

"Birdy." He suddenly barked, causing Layla to jump and catching the attention of the smaller woman not far behind him. He pointed down at the little girl, the woman he'd called Birdy coming over and taking a seat next to her.

"I'm gonna see 'bout the paper work. You keep 'er quite." And with that turned to the desk.

Layla stared at his back, hundreds of things running through her mind. Her thoughts were soon broken into, however, by the woman sat next her.

"Hi honey." The woman greeted her softly.

Layla looked up at her, not really willing to speak.

The woman reached out, stroking her hair down. "I'm sorry about your daddy, sweetheart." Birdy smiled sadly. "But you'll be ok now."

Layla looked between the man at the desk and Birdy. There was a dark bruise forming on the side of the woman's face that worried Layla a little too much. She inched away from Birdy's touch, making the sad smile in Birdy's expression drop into a disappointed frown.

From behind the desk, Layla's father's solicitor appeared. He smile and held his hand out to Creed, who looked down at it with disgust and growled. The solicitor awkwardly recoiled his hand and showed Creed into his office.

Inside, both men seated themselves, and the solicitor took out some paper work from a draw.

"It's a shame it's had to come to this, really." The solicitor said taking a pen from his top pocket and placing it next to the papers in front of sabretooth.

"Not really..." Creed replied, scanning over the papers. "Part o'the job." He added flippantly. "Least he were stupid enough not ta make plans though, huh?" he laughed.

The solicitor looked away awkwardly, knowing full well Victor Creed was the kind of man to have no sympathy for death. To be honest, He didn't feel comfortable leaving the girl with him. But obviously it was his choice. The father had put it in his will.

"What, exactly, did it say in his will then?" Creed asked as he began to sign.

"Erm..." the solicitor scrambled for the will in a pile. He pulled it free and scanned through. He mumbled through until he found the parts Creed was really interested in.

"Oh, erm. I Trevor McCartney leave the care of my daughter, Layla, to Victor Creed, as requested."

Creed silenced him with a hand, before pushing the paper work back over the desk.

"Alright, alright. I got it. So the kids mine then?"

"Yes. Your her legal guardian now."

"Good."

"Oh, but she must be checked on for the first 6 months..."

Creed glared at the other man. "What ya mean?" he growled.

The solicitor shuddered and tried his best to stop himself screaming and running out of the room and as far away from this man as was possible.

"A Social worker must come to the place you've listed that the child will be living and check on her. I-it's just to make sure she's happy and cared for."

Victor stood abruptly, nearly knocking the chair over.

"She that important then?"

"N-n-no, Mr. Creed...it's just standard practice..." The solicitor was sweating now, and the smell of it was beginning to make Creed feel unclean.

"Whatever." He waved the man off and opened the door to leave.

Layla had found Birdy wasn't as bad as first thought and had warmed to her quickly. She was slowly drifting off to sleep with her head in Birdy's lap when Creed reappeared from the office.

"Wake 'er up and get 'er in the car Birdy." He snapped as he passed the two females. Layla looked up at Birdy, tears threatening to fall. She didn't want to go with the scary man, even if Birdy was there to protect her. She just wanted to go home with her daddy.

Birdy pulled the small girl up, cradling her head on her shoulder as she carried her out to the car.

"It'll be ok baby. I promise." Birdy whispered.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Two car rides and a flight in a private jet later, Layla stood in the drive way to Victor Creed's Vancouver mansion.

She tugged at the martial of her little black coat as she silently observed her new surroundings.

It was certainly bigger than the small apartment she'd grown up in with her father. The tree line behind the building seemed to go on forever. Layla contemplated running. But it looked dark and scary past the front row of trees. Maybe she'd have to rethink that idea.

The main building looked nice and very old. She didn't know anything about old buildings, only that they looked nicer than some of the new ones a lot of people lived in. Oh, and that they cost alot of money. Her daddy had told her that when he'd taken her to a posh part of town once. He'd said that lots of money got lots of room. Mr Creed must have had a lot of money.

There was a loud crash behind her, and Layla turned to see Birdy cringing over a flight case that had fallen out of the back of Creeds car and had burst open, scattering clothing all over the gravel of the drive.

It was obvious that both Birdy and Layla thought the accident would get Birdy a clip round the ear, but they relaxed a fraction as Creed inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring and turned on his heel and headed for the front door, muttering curses as he pushed pass Layla.

Birdy stuffed everything back into the flight case, making a mental note to have everything cleaned and closed it up. She pulled out another smaller case and placed that on top of Mr Creeds.

Grabbing her handbag from the top of the car, she headed for Layla, gently taking her hand.

"C'mon sweetness. I'll get Burns to get the big cases in. You got your stuff?" Layla nodded, picking her small duffle bag up off the gravel and headed to the house with Birdy.

At the bottom of the steps they were met by a tall, middle aged man, with chiselled features and short brown hair that he been slicked back.

"Welcome Back Birdy." He greeted the blonde woman with a warm smile.

"Ah. Hey Burns. Could you get the cases please?" Birdy sighed with a tired smile.

"Sure. He's in a bad mood today aint he?" Burns asked, nodding to the open front door. All Three could see Creed stood in the main hall, flicking through post, still muttering and cursing. He clicked his tongue in irritation and dumped the pile on a near by table, before taking his jacket off and slinging it over the banister along with his tie. He undid his first couple of buttons on his shirt and took off the cufflinks before finally kicking his shoes off and stomping up the stairs.

Birdy shook her head, giving Layla a little smile before turning back to Burns.

"He's been like that since we went to the court house. He hasn't said why and frankly I'm not going to bother trying to ask."

"Is that the reason for your fashionable facial bruising?" Burns chuckled looking over the bruises on Birdy's forehead and the side of her face.

"Kinda." She shrugged. She glanced down at Layla again, feeling a pang of guilt at bring the little girl into such an abuse household. "Besides. He's already scared this little one half to death as it is. I don't want him shouting and terrifying her. She'll get enough of that as it is."

Burns finally laid eyes on the small girl next to Birdy. She was small, pale and her pale blue eyes looked almost deathly. But she looked innocent and scared. She'd be lucky to survive to see her 10th birthday with Creed charging around like he did.

"Well hey there. You must be the new resident." She smiled, bending down to Layla's level.

Layla smiled. She liked this man. He seemed nice.

"This is Layla. She's the new lady of the house." Birdy laughed. "Layla. This is Burns. He's Mr Creed's other assistant. He take's care of Mr Creed's house, while I take care of Mr Creed, and of course you, now."

Layla held out her hand, ready to shake. The motion surprised Burns, but he chuckled and shook her hand.

"Ok, well now you've met, I think we should take you to get settled in." Birdy said, gently tugging on Layla's hand as she guided her into the house.

"Right. I'll get the cases in then." Burns sighed, standing to full height. "I'll see you later Layla." With that, she headed down the steps and over to the flight cases.

Once in the house, Layla was more than a little overwhelmed by the sized of the place. Everything looked old and expensive. She began to worry she might break something and get into trouble. Birdy had kind of confirmed her fears when she spoke to Burns about where she'd got the bruises on her face. And somehow Layla got the feeling Mr Creed didn't care.

She dropped her little duffle bag and began to unbutton her coat.

"Ok, sweetie. You wanna see your new room?" Birdy asked taking Layla's coat and hanging it in a closet under the large staircase. Birdy hadn't even known Layla had a room until Creed had told her on the flight home. She knew he'd had people in decorating over the last week or so, but he'd warned her to stay out of the way till he decided to tell her what he was doing in the room.

Birdy headed up the stair, glancing behind her every now and again as she watched Layla take the stairs one at a time. Once at the top and she'd allowed Layla time to catch up, the pair wondered down one of the few corridors in the house.

Layla cringed at some of the weird stuff Mr Creed had hanging on his walls. Animal heads, with eyes that seemed to watch her as she walked. Looking back at Birdy, she saw the older woman didn't mind them, but that wasn't very reassuring. There were weapons too, but she didn't mind then half as much. Back in the apartment, her daddy had swords of all kinds hanging on the walls. Whenever he got a new one, he'd always show it to her and explain about it and it's history before he hung it up. Layla liked swords.

Finally, they stopped near the end of the corridor. "This is your room now honey." Birdy cooed as she stroked Layla's hair. The door was the same dark brown as the other doors in the corridor. With her daddy, she'd had her name on her door in funny letters. This door wasn't as exciting.

"Take a look inside Layla." Birdy nudged her forward. In truth, she was as curious as the new room as the little girl. It hadn't really been used for anything before that moment, so any change would have been good.

Layla reached for the handle and slowly pushed the door open. Both Layla and Birdy poked their head round the door, the blonde woman more than a little shocked by what she saw.

Pale violent walls, covered with swirling delicate white patterns with white bordering. Birdy pushed the room open a little further, jaw slack in shock. The heels of her boots sank into the lush new, deep purple carpet. The large bed, with it's white patterned covers faced the fire place, which, following the theme, had also been painted white. The violent curtains and the drapes over the bed blew in the breeze from the ajar balcony doors.

There were a few toys in the room. Not as many as most children had, but the ones in the room looked expensive, like the live size steiff lion stood in the corner of the room. Layla noticed it too, and made a beeline for it, gently stroking it's mane once stood next to it.

Birdy couldn't even contemplate Sabretooth going out buying toys like some angry mutant Santa, but someone had to have brought them, even if the mental image it conjured up was far too laughable to be real.

"Nice isn't it?" Burns Asked from behind her, nearly sending Birdy tumbling forward in fright. "Creed doesn't like it, but it's not him that has to sleep here." He continued, stepping into the room and glancing round looking a little proud.

"You knew about this?" Birdy asked almost bitterly at being left out.

"Sure. I helped with the colour scheme. If it was up to Creed, he'd have left it bare. I helped with the bed too. We couldn't get it up here without taking it apart. I spent three hours putting it back together." Burns rambled on, stroking a hand over the headboard of the bed.

"And where was I?" Looking back at Birdy he almost laughed. She gone pink with outrage and was stand tapping her foot, her arms crossed across her chest.

"Out. Vic sent you out on purpose. He said you'd piss him off if you knew. Said you'd want to help and start getting over the top."

"Oh, Nice." She grumbled.

Burns laughed again, looking over at Layla who was still playing with the stuffed lion.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Creed sat with his head in his hands on the edge of the bed.

He'd been like it for almost fifteen minutes by then and Birdy was starting to get wary. She tried to move quietly around him, picking up clothing, putting his shoes away, moving the empty bottles of drink for the night before they'd left to pick up Layla. But somehow, everything she seemed to do made some kind of noise. She winced as the empty Jack Daniels bottles clinked together in her hands as she moved to drop them in the trash can.

"Birdy." Sabretooth growled.

Birdy cringed, gritting her teeth before she started apologising.

"I'm sorry Mr Creed. I was just going to..."

"Forget that frail." He snarled, cutting her off. "C'mere." His voice lowering in volume. "I need ya."

Birdy knew where this was going. She'd done it enough times to know, and if she got it wrong, she knew just how painful it could get for her.

She approached Sabretooth, her heart thudding in her chest and her palms sweaty. She knew he was angry. He'd been hung up on something since they got Layla. Maybe it was the kid? Maybe, he didn't want her, but knew he was stuck with her.

Then again. Birdy knew Creed. As complex as he was, she knew he'd been planning this. Why else would he have gone to all the trouble of decorating her room, or buying her toys? There was something strange about Birdy's boss and his interest with the little girl, but asking, or for that matter, going into his mind and finding out for herself was not something she'd do willingly.

When she got close enough, Sabretooth reached out, grasping her hips tightly and pulling her to stand between his legs.

"Hit me hard Birdy. I aint gonna sleep t'night otherwise."

"You got it Mr Creed." Birdy replied, building up enough power to hopefully knock him out. It didn't take long and the small blonde hit him with everything she had.

The force knocked him back onto the bed, his claws biting into her hips as he dragged her with him.

Inside Creed's head, Birdy was hit with the usual flurry of emotions. Never goods ones of course. It took a moment before she could push these overwhelming feelings back.

He really wasn't in a good mood.

She scanned over the memories and stronger emotions, searching for the most powerful. That would be her starting point.  
Birdy had developed this technique a while ago. By neutralizing the usual stronger feelings of hate, rage and angry in Sabretooth's mind, the smaller stuff was easier to settle.

Something made Birdy pause however. Instead of being hit with rage that had build up, she was hit with gut retching dread and frustration that made her head spin. She couldn't understand it, and didn't even try to. Too much delving would aggravate creeds memories and thoughts, which was lethal, seen how a wrong move could trigger instincts and explosive rage and Creed could rip her apart before he'd even realised.

She gently lessened the frustration first. It fizzled out quicker than his rage which made her job a little easier, but it left behind images Birdy hadn't expected.

Like shards of thin glass, images, of recent memories floated around her. The more she filtered through his emotions, the more unexpected images floated around aimlessly. But two images seemed to be the centre of the feelings.

Fading Creed's dread, she paused to look over the memories. Usually, they were images of people he'd killed, people's expressions moments before the claws had hit them and ended their life. Then there were the older ones. The ones from his childhood. Their weren't always there, they seemed to float in and out of his mind as he struggled to remember. They were usually the most painful. But not this time.

As if looking through the eyes of the monster, Birdy was looking down at a small girl. Dark hair. The palest blue eyes she'd ever seen to match her almost white skin. She was dressed in black, staring back with wide eyes. Fear showed up clearly in the glassy colour of her pupils.

It was Layla.

Birdy recoiled. Not really sure what to think. This was the memory that was the centre of Creed's frustration. The look in Layla's eyes wasn't anything new. There were hundreds of these memories like this one. His victims, some children, looking back at him with fear. But this one was playing on his mind.

The second was older. Around six years older.

From what Birdy could tell, it was a bundle of blankets. But that was only the first glance. Looking closer, the memory played on slowly and a tiny face came into view from under the blankets. Tiny hands clenched at the material around the pink face as a tiny, new born child fidgeted in the bundle.

The child's eyes drifted, half lidded, around the room. Examining the world for the first time before the eyes finally look up toward the direction Creed had been standing. It stared, eyes widening a little as Birdy stared back through Creed's eyes. Those eyes never broke contact.

Those wide, _pale blue_, eyes...

Birdy gasped, quickly withdrawing from Creed's mind. Suddenly things became clearer. But at the same time, seemed more confusing.

Creed had been there the day Layla was born.

Birdy hissed as she gently pulled away from her bosses grip, claws pulling at the flesh of her hips as she moved away. Sabretooth looked like he'd passed out a while back from the force she'd hit him with mentally.

Catching her breath, she headed for the door, leaving her boss sprawled out on the bed.

"Oi!" Creed grunted as she reached for the door handle. The sound of his voice shocked her and she spun on her heel to see him still laid on the bed, but his eyes watching her from just under the lids.

"The kid..." He grunted again before closing his eyes.

Birdy waited. He didn't speak again for a minute or two, so she tried to leave for a second time.

"Oi!" he grunted again, louder than before.

"Yes Mr Creed?"

"The kid."

"Layla?"

"Yea. Where is she?" his voice came out only a little above a harsh whisper.

"In her room. Playing with her new toys. Well, she was when I left her. Burns was keeping an eye on her."

"Good." He grunted. With that, he closed his eyes and let sleep take him.

Birdy left silently with a lot on her mind now she'd relieved Creeds.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**7:48am the next morning. **

Burns fished out several neatly wrapped packages of fresh bacon from the huge metallic fridge in Creed's kitchen. He made a mental note to get more later that day. His boss tended to go thought meat like it was going out of fashion. It was around 95% of his diet, the other 5% being junk he'd grab when he wasn't home or out hunting.

He piled the bacon on the work top while he washed his hands. Not that anything that got into Creeds food would affect him. But after a few years working as a professional chief, it was a habit that was like second nature to Burns.

Birdy would make her own breakfast when she got up at 8 o'clock, leaving Burns more time to deal with Sabretooth's appetite.

He had just started unwrapping the bacon when the kitchen door quietly inched open, escaping his notice.

Layla, plodded into the kitchen and over to the fridge. She fiddled with the handle for a moment or two, not quite able to reach it, but managed to pull it ajar.

Burns still hadn't noticed as she rifled through, taking a carton of milk and closing the door. The slight thud as the doors shutting finally made Burns turn.

He smiled when he saw Layla with the carton.

"Morning Layla."

The little girl remained silent. Just smiled.

"Want some milk? Maybe breakfast?" He asked, reaching for a clean glass from an over head cupboard. He poured her a glass and set in on the kitchen island before pulling a stood out for her and helping her up.

"Right." Burns started, circling the island and leaning his forearms on the counter top. "Breakfast. What would you like Miss Layla?" The little girl shrugged. Not that he'd expected her to answer. Although only being there a night, she'd not spoken one word to anyone despite Birdy and himself trying their best to encourage her.  
He was pretty sure it was a confidence thing and that in her own time; she'd start talking to them.

Mr Creed might be a different matter though.

Where as Burns and Birdy were willing to encourage Layla, giving her all the time she needed to find her voice, Mr Creed didn't have that kind of patience. He'd no doubt become aggravated by her lack of speech, which could be dangerous to Layla. He hoped himself and Birdy could get her talking before then.

"Ok, well. I could make you pancakes? Waffles, maybe?" Layla shook her head. "Ok, if you don't want anything like that, maybe some fruit?"

The fruit wasn't in the house because Sabretooth ate it. He'd displayed a great distaste for it long ago. The fruit was there for Burns and Birdy, who would pick at the fruit throughout the day.

Layla Smiled at his choice and Burns took it as a cue. He headed to the fridge.

"There's lots of different stuff in here, Layla. Do you have any favourites?" Layla simply stared at his back silently from her seat at the counter.

"Or." He smiled at her over his shoulder. "Maybe I can give you some mixed fruit, and you can pick out what you like."

Taking out the different fruit, in many shapes, sizes and colours, Burns washed them quickly and chopping some up before throwing them all into a large white bowl and placing it in front of Layla. She picked at the fruit for a while, as Burns returned to cooking Mr Creed's breakfast. If the meat wasn't straight from the animal, Creed liked the meat warmed, not cooked. It was still mostly raw when it was served to him.

Layla pushed slices of apple aside in the bowl, as she picked through. Beneath the apple slices, she came across what she'd been hoping to find.

Dark red in colour and plump, the strawberry sat untouched by the sharp knife Burns had used to chop the other fruits. She picked it out, examining it between her thumb and index finger. She smiled and brought the fruit to her lips, biting off just the top of the strawberry. The taste was sweet and refreshing, just what she liked in the morning.

"I like Strawberries." She said in her tiny, soft voice.

Burns Jumped. He hadn't expected her to say anything and the softness of her voice had spooked him. A grin spread across his face, but he kept his back to the small child, not wanting her to descend back into silence again. The best course of action, he figured, was to just act like it was nothing special.

"Are strawberries your favourite?" he asked, hoping she'd speak again.

"Yep. I haven't had any in a long time though." she replied. Burns silently wondered to himself. She was quieter than any six year old he'd met. He had two nephews around the same age, and they were nowhere near as reserved as Layla. Maybe it was the shock of losing her dad so young and then being confronted with the behemoth that was Victor Creed that had silenced her. He didn't know. And he wouldn't question her unless she was ready for that.

The two kept a quiet conversation going for a while, talking about her favourite foods and things to do. Burns told her about his childhood and his twin brother back home in Montana and Layla listened intently.

Birdy didn't make an appearance till nearly half past eight. She hadn't slept well after what she seen in Creed's mind. Not that she could usually sleep after going into Creed's mind. Layla was important to Creed somehow, and that was mostly what had kept her awake. She was curious to why the little slip of a girl frustrated sabretooth so badly.

From the kitchen, Birdy heard voices. Soft, quiet ones, but defiantly voices. Poking her head round the door, she listened as Layla spoke to Burns.

"I had a baby sister. That's what daddy told me. He said she died though. And Mommy died too." Layla told Burns, rolling a strawberry between her fingers.

"I bet that made you sad." He replied.

"Kinda. I don't remember mommy. But I did get kinda mad 'cos I thought my baby sister had taken my mommy away. But daddy told me it was ok. He said that one of them had to go to heaven with her so she wouldn't be alone and that he had stayed here with me."

Birdy felt her heart swell with sadness for the little girl. She was so very young and yet had faced more pain than most people Birdy had ever met. She felt herself becoming suddenly very protective over her, feeling the need to keep her safe now.

Desperate to finally speak properly to Layla, Birdy finally entered the room.

"Good morning." She greeted quietly. She didn't really want to break the relaxed mood or scare Layla. That, and Creed's ears picked up everything. There was no need to have him storming around this early if he woke up.

"Good morning sweetie." She greeted Layla, wrapping her arms round the girl's shoulders and kissing her head softly. "Did you sleep ok?"

Layla nodded and smiled up at Birdy before popping another strawberry in her mouth.

The three sat quietly talking for the next hour. Birdy made herself and Burns coffee and Lay continued drinking milk and ate her own weight in strawberries. The relaxed atmosphere was something very rare in the Creed household. In fact. Creed hadn't even crossed Birdy or Burns' mind and his breakfast sat undelivered on the counter behind Burns.

Layla finally pushed the bowl away from her, having finally eaten every strawberry in the house. Birdy smiled and stroked her hair.

"You'll turn into a strawberry if you keep eating so many." She laughed.

"Yea. She's already beginnin' ta smell like one..." The three jumped, and Burns stood bolt upright from his position leaning against the counter.

Sabretooth stalked into the room without a noise. He could have been stood at the door for a while and none of them out have heard him. He scowled and glared at Birdy and Burns as he rounded the island, stopping just behind Layla and leaning over her shoulder. Birdy saw her tense, her tiny hands balled into fists on the counter surface and her eyes watching her hands. Creed sniffed a couple of times, but Birdy could sense the frustration building around him as Layla remained frozen under his gaze. With a snarl, he pushed past her and over to the counter behind Burns where his breakfast now sat cold.

Inhaling, Victor picked up the plate. He hooked a top piece of bacon on one of his claws and sniffed it.

"I'm supposin' this is mine?" he asked Burns, his voice level , not quite giving away his intentions. Burns nodded, gulping as he did so.

"Well..." Victor sighed, his eyes suddenly flashing with anger. "I don't want it now." He growl and threw the plate across the room.

Layla flinched as the plate smashed against the wall behind her. Birdy instantly moved forward to comfort her, but Creed's voice stopped her.

"Don't you dare, frail! Don't you fuckin' _dare_." Birdy backed up as Creed's clawed finger pointed to the quivering child. "You'll learn frail, this aint the easy life here." He snarled down at her. Birdy could sense this wasn't his normal anger that was directed at her, more irritation towards her.

He dropped his hand, breathing hard and glaring at Layla. His shoulder length hair hung loose over his bare shoulders, still matted from sleep. His sweat pants hung low on his hips, showing off all the intimidating muscle in his shoulders, chest and abdomen that heaved with every aggravated breath.

"She been fed?" He growled over at Burns, his predatory eyes not leaving Layla's face.

"Yes Mr Creed."

"Good. I want 'er washed up, clothed and in the study in half hour. If she aint ready, it's _ your _ head!" he snapped at Birdy.

He stormed from the room, slamming the door behind him and almost taking it off its hinges.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Victor stormed back to his room. Once there, he tore off the sweat pants and headed for his closet, pulling out a worn, ripped old pair of jeans. Slipping them on, he grabbed the half drunk bottle of jack Daniels from his bedside table and left his room, heading in the direction of his study. What he was about to try was going to be a little more difficult than he'd hoped.

He entered the study without a sound, sighing in relief upon seeing the small child wasn't there yet. He'd need time to think. Seating himself in the over sized leather couch and stretching out; He relaxed his head back against the armrest and closing his eyes. The bottle of jack Daniels was still tightly clutched in his hand, Victor's minded wondered.

He'd woken not long after 3am after receiving the glow from Birdy, the cub's scent tickling his nose from down the hall. Crawling off the bed, he exited his room, his eyes glowing in the darkness. He stalked down the hallway, not really thinking, but acting on instinct. He'd very rarely been this close to her. And now she was his to keep.

He'd stopped outside her room, placing his hand flat against the wood of her door, listening. Layla was sleeping soundly, something he hadn't expected. He'd expected her to cry, to whine about wanting her dad, but she hadn't. She hadn't made a sound. Victor didn't know whether he was pleased or worried by that. Surely she should have spoken, whispered, whimpered? But on the other hand, he rather have her quiet than screaming and crying. Even if he'd have regretted it for a short while afterward, he'd have snapped her neck if she'd have given him a headache.

He'd leaned his head against her door, his breathing syncing with hers as he continued to listen. She was scared of him. Just like everyone and everything else. And for once, it didn't please him. Where it had come from, he didn't know. He didn't remember the smell of fear when she first saw him. Then again, it had been a few years. At the time, she was minutes old and clueless of the world. That was one of his fondest memories. He didn't have many of them. Many, many things he would usually push to the furthest reaches of his mind, or allowed Birdy to rid him of them. But that first memory of Layla he guarded. Kept safe and blocked from Birdy whenever she entered his mind. She didn't need or deserve to know why he'd brought Layla here. Birdy was just paid to keep track of things he couldn't be bothered with. The glow was just an added bonus. She wasn't privy to information he had on Layla, so he kept it from her.

He'd returned to his room and his bed, the memory of the night of the 24th of October six years ago taking over his dreams.

_**Flashback**_

_24__th__ October six years ago: a quiet cul-de-sac: west California _

_Creed pulled up outside John and Cleo's home. Despite it being early morning, the house was lit up brighter than Vegas. _

_Victor removed his gloves, and rapped on the door, glancing through the frosted glass as a flurry of movement behind the door. When it opened, a light haired, light skinned man stood before Victor. _

_John Hackett was usually a cheerful man, which got on Creed's nerves, but not that night. He looked tired and broken. Not that Victor cared. He was here to collect on his deal with the younger merc, and if he couldn't make good on his end of the bargain, Victor was gonna make sure he regretted it. _

"_Sorry it's so early Johnny boy, but ya owe me and I'm 'ere ta collect what ya owe." _

_The man seemed to panic, his eyes darting around, looking anywhere but Victor. "Tonight?" He groaned, his voice breaking with strain. _

"_Oh, I'm sorry." Creed quipped sarcastically. "Shall I leave and come back tomorrow when it's more convenient for you sir?" _

_The smaller man shook his head. He was in his dressing gown like he'd just gotten out of bed. But clearly hadn't slept judging from the redness of his eyes and the dark circles. "No. No, I'm sorry Vic. Listen. I have the money. But I can't...I can't pay you right now." John's voice quivered and his eyes tearing up. _

_Jesus, Creed thought. If he was going to start crying over some crappy debt, imagine his reaction if he didn't have the money._

"_Oh? Fancy offerin' me a reason Johnny?" He snorted down at the man. There was a sudden cry from up the stair behind John, making both men glance in its direction. The smell of blood and pain was next to hit Creed square in the in the face as it flooded down the stairs and out the open front door. _

"_What's goin' on Johnny? Ya havin' a bloody orgy and not invited me?" Victor sneered, leaning round John as he sniffed up the scent of blood. _

"_No." John quivered again, the tears threatening to fall. "It's Cleo." He sniffed. Victor almost laughed. So John had finally beat the stupid, loud mouthed bitch into submission had he? Victor was tempted to congratulate him. _

"_What about 'er?" The feral grumbled. _

"_She's in labour." John sniffed again. _

_Ah. Now Creed understood. He'd forgotten John's frail was pregnant with their cub. No matter. He wanted his money. _

"_And how..." Victor purred, pushing past John and strode into the couples living room, before seating himself on their sofa, legs crossed and arms resting along the back of the sofa. "Should your frail and brat affect my money?"He continued, giving an aggravated snort. _

_John seemed stunned into silence, his mouth hanging slack. He knew Creed had little emotion or sympathy for such things, but to not care even in the slightest shocked him. He clearly didn't know this man as well as he thought it did. Creed sat picking his teeth with a claw for a moment, unmoved by the screams of pain from John's wife up the stairs. _

"_Cleo's dying Vic." John whispered, a tear finally falling. _

_Victor stopped picking his teeth, wiping the claw on the leg of his suit before giving a sharp shrug and rolling his eyes. "Shit happens John." He grunted. _

_John sank to his knees slowly, his eyes still staring at Victor as the tears fell. Victor eyed him angrily. His wife was dying? So what? They shouldn't have decided to have a brat then should they, and maybe she'd still me fine, asleep upstairs instead of screaming in agony as her life slowly seeped away like her blood onto the bed sheets. It was totally their own fault, and totally nothing to do with him. That was for sure. _

"_If ya start crying in front o'me John, I'm gonna slap you with the sharp end of my claws, ya hear?" he snarled at the man huddled on the floor in front of him. _

_John clearly wasn't listening. He whimpered and sat on the floor with his head in his hands. Creed sighed. This was going to waste his time. But he needed the money from John. He had something he needed it for. _

_They sat in silence as Cleo's cries echoed through the house. John shuddered as he sobbed quietly into his hands. Shifting in his seat, Victor rolled his shoulders. "Is there anyone up there with 'er?" He asked finally. He didn't know why. Maybe the silence was getting to him. _

"_Yea." John mumbled. "The doctor and his nurses." _

"_Why aint she in hospital?" _

_John shrugged. "Cleo's known for a while she was dying. Some kind of blood disease." That thought actually make Creed cringe. "She wanted to die at home." John continued. _

"_She didn't tell me till a few days ago, when she got sick. The baby's a month early. But she wanted the baby to live." He whispered mournfully. "I don't know what I'll do without her."_

_Victor bit his tongue. He was tempted to comment, 'get a new one.' But that would probably make the smaller man cry again. And that would piss him off further. Lolling him head back, Victor relaxed. _

_He'd be here a while. _

_Slivers of sunlight began to filter through the net curtaining on the front window as a new day finally broke. _

_John had stopped snivelling and had curled himself up into a sorry ball in the arm chair to Creed's left and had fallen into a deep sleep. _

_Victor had switched on the TV, and was resting his feet on the coffee table. _

_He'd long since removed his jacket and loosened his tie. He was toying with the idea of removing his boots too, but thought better of it. He wanted out of there as soon as possible. _

_The screaming had long stopped, but Victor could still hear Cleo's whimpers. He could hear her life slowly fading and for probably the first time in many, many years, contemplated a mercy killing on the woman's behalf. John would never forgive him, but he didn't care. As much as Creed liked torture, this wasn't fair on the frail. Sure, he'd killed innocent woman, but Cleo had been different to normal frails. And he'd quietly developed a little respect for her over the years. Even if he did think she still needed a good slap sometimes. _

_He heard one last final soft cry of pain and suddenly movement buzzed from upstairs. There was shuffling of feet as the doctors began to fuss over something. _

_Creed could smell what it was. New life. Cleo had finally given birth and the child was whimpering and mewing. _

_The stairs began to creak as someone started down to deliver, and break the news. _

_A short, plump woman appeared in the doorway. Her nurse's uniform was covered in blood and mucus. She glanced over at Creed, blinking as she took him in. She shuddered and turned to John in the armchair. Leaning forward, she attempted to wake him, only to have to her hand swotted away by Creed. _

"_Leave him." He growled, standing from the sofa. _

_She nodded and headed back up the stairs, Victor in toe. _

_He followed her slowly into the bedroom, the scents of blood, pain and sweat, now mixed with the smell of new life. And death._

_The doctor was wiping off his hands and talking to a second nurse, who was writing down the details of Cleo's passing away. _

_Victor spared a glance to the deceased. After hours of struggle, Cleo finally looked peaceful. It was rare that Victor saw a peaceful death. Usually the look of horror graced his victim's features even once their life had gone. But Cleo looked rested. A slight smiled on her lips. _

_There was a soft cry from off to the side of him, and Victor turned. There was a table under the window and upon it, was a bundle of blankets. _

_Edging closer, somewhat curious of the noises the blankets were making, Victor stepped over to the table and leaned in close. _

_A tiny pink face was poking out from under the material and tiny fingers gripped on tight. The new born's eyes were half lidded as they scanned the room around it, babbling and mewing softly. _

_Victor leaned closer. Eyes roaming over the Child's face. Victor's mind reeled in curiosity and wonderment at it. It was tiny. It was safe to say Victor wasn't a child person. In fact, he wasn't even a people person. He'd seen kids. Hell, he'd killed kids. But tiny, new born babies were totally new. _

_It made him feel weird. _

_The child's eyes finally met his own, and widened. He didn't smell fear. He didn't smell much past her new freshness. It was tantalizing. _

_The pale blue of her eyes made him smile voluntarily. She as curious of him as he was of her. His mind was telling him this was strange. But the rest of him told him it was special. He didn't know why. Didn't care either. _

_He carefully picked up the blankets, not totally sure he was holding her right, but he'd figure that out himself. He certainly wasn't going to let the fat little nurse watching him show him what to do. He'd do it himself._

_The manage to cradle the wiggly child, his hands supporting her head and bottom. He lifted her higher as he leaned in to press his nose to her hair. Victor sniffed, taking in the child's new scent. It wiggled a little more and cooed up at him as his breath fluffed her hair. _

_Turning his back on the doctor and his frails, Victor grinned into the tiny child's skin. His tongue peaked out between his teeth, and slithered along it's cheek. It wiggled and cooed, tilting it's face up to meet Creed's, their noses touching. _

"_Are you the father?" The doctor's voice piped up behind him. _

"_Nah." Victor grinned, turning back to the three. "But the she's mine." _

_The doctor and nurses looked at each other in confusion. It didn't make sense to them, but it didn't need to. Victor understood perfectly. And in time, her daddy would understand too._

_Still cradling the little girl, Victor walked over to her mother, crouching down by the side of the bed and leaning over. Whatever made him do it, he didn't question, but Victor pressed his lips to Cleo's. She was still warm and smiling. Pulling away, he stroked the pad of his finger down her cheek. He'd never managed to touch her in life and even though she'd passed away, Victor relished the contact. _

"_Thanks frail." He whispered, looking between Cleo and the baby girl. "I like this one." He said softly as he kissed her forehead. _

_**END FLASHBACK**_

Victor remembered taking the little girl to meet her father soon after that last moment with Cleo. He'd been the one to break the news of her death to John. The man had cried again. He'd mourned her death for days. Victor hadn't asked about the debt again. The little girl was his payment. And now he had her.

But the memory stung. Not because he regretted anything about it. But because the little girl he'd held that day. The only person, thing, creature, not to be scared of him was that tiny girl. The same small girl that had looked at him in horror the night he'd come to collect her.

He'd stayed away from her for six years. He wanted her to live normally for a while before she became his. She'd have her uses, and he'd already made plans for her.

Maybe he shouldn't have kept away from her; maybe he should have demanded that John let him see her. Instead of watching from afar as she grew.

Victor cracked to top off the JD's bottle and gulped down the contents. He'd need a way to assure her, to make her trust him; otherwise the plans would be wasted.

His anger boiled from his frustration as his mind continued to tick away, cogs turning as he strained to think.

He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand as a headache began to form. He was think far too hard.

There was a knock on the thick wood door. The mixed scent s of nervous Birdy and a freshly clean Layla, whose scent was making his mouth water...

No.

He slapped his hands over his face a growled. He was sick, but not that sick. Yet. She was a baby for crying out loud!

_Wait._ He told himself.

Another Knock rattled him from his thoughts. "Come in already frail!" He yelled, hands still covering his face.

Outside the door Layla jumped at the sound of Creed's voice. He was mad. She didn't wanna be around his while he was angry.

Birdy gently opened the door, and attempted to push Layla inside. She dug her heels in, looking up at Birdy with pleading eyes.

"It's ok baby. You'll be fine." Birdy tried to reassure her. Layla could tell she was lying. She didn't know how, but she knew.

"Fer God's sake..." they heard Creed curse.

"Please?" Birdy begged. She'd get beaten up if Layla didn't listen. The little girl nodded, to Birdy's relief.

Victor looked up when he heard the door click shut again. If Layla hadn't come, Victor would kick the day lights out of...He stopped. Stood just in front of the door, was Layla.

She was dressed in a long sleeved, plain black shirt, with pink stitching. Her tiny legs were covered by black tights and over the top she wore a dungaree dress, just off black in colour, as if washed too many times. Her dark hair was still wet, and hung loose over her shoulders.

She was shivering under his gaze. Her eyes looking to the floor near the coffee table.

Victor's eye twitched, claws lengthening and instincts sharpening.

"_Layla..."_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"_Layla..."_

Layla's eyes did not move from the spot on the carpet.

"Layla." Victor repeated a little louder, his yarning almost breaking into his voice.

She still refused to move. So Creed moved to her. Easing himself from his seat, Victor edged over to Layla, watching as she shuddered at his approach. His shadow fell over her and she cringed, but remained in place. Victor knelt down in front of her, reaching out to touch her face.

Layla cringed away.

Victor hesitated, but tried again, attempted to stroke his fingers across her cheek, managing it, but Layla tensed, pushing herself back against the doors as she tried to move away from him.

She still smelled the same. So clean. So innocent. He knew that would change, but for now, it was beautiful.

He purred unconsciously, the noise scaring Layla and she ducked to one side and away from his touch.

Victor's eyes followed her as she slunk across the wall away from him, until she hit a corner. She sunk down and curled up, watching him over her kneels.

He growled, following her on his hands and knees. He looked like a tiger. His blonde mane fell around his face and shoulders as his eyes bore into Layla's, glowing and burning a deep amber.

She tried in vain to push herself further into the corner, but found herself trapped.

Layla squealed as he grabbed her ankle and pulled her from her hiding spot. He dragged her almost under him, trapping her chin between his index finger and thumb, squeezing as she wiggled, her eyes tight shut.

"Look at me." He growled his voice demonic and his breath hot against her face.

She still refused.

"LOOK AT ME!" He yelled at the top of his lungs in her face, his teeth snapping together. He'd almost deafened her with his yell and she panicked as he head shook with the noise. She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face.

Their eyes met and Layla reeled from the madness she saw in the burning pupils of his eyes.

She wriggled and cried in his grasp, blinking and turning her eyes away. His grip was far too strong and he continued to hold on, desperate for her act to the way she did to him the day she was born.

In a last ditch attempt, Victor leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers, their noses touching once more. But she didn't understand. She didn't remember that moment Creed had held on to for so long. She continued to wriggle, trying to move her face from his. She didn't like being this close to him. She just simply didn't like him. There was something mad and wrong about this man and she, even at the age of six, could tell.

Her hands had been grasping at his wrist, trying to move his hand from her chin, but when she failed to move his hand, she began beating at the side of his head, at his arms, anywhere she could.

She was sobbing now, the tears wetting his face too as he kept her close. Suddenly, realising it was futile, Victor released her. The moment she was free Layla crawled away, cowered behind the sofa as she cried.

Victor leant against the wall, sighing as he felt his chest tighten. Inhaling deeply, the tightening in his chest increased and his anger returned. Spinning, he put his fist through the wall behind him. His claws unsheathed themselves and he began clawing at the wall and the sofa.

Getting to his feet, his kicked out, hitting the coffee table. It's flew across the room and shattered against the wall.

"BIRDY!" He roared, still panting in anger as she rushed into the room, Burns right behind her.

"What happened Boss? Where's Layla?" she panicked, her heart sinking when she saw the state of the room, and no Layla. Creed pointed to the sofa and growled.

"I want the glow." He snarled at the blonde woman. "Now."

"Boss, I have to get Layla to her..."

"NOW! What part of that aint ya gettin' frail?" he roared again.

Burns nodded to Birdy and passed her, quickly grabbing Layla from behind the sofa and rushing her from the room.

"You'll be ok Layla. I wont let him near you now." Burns whispered into her hair.

The little girl continued to sob.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Sadly for Layla, a scary pattern of behaviour began to show in Sabretooth's daily routine.

Victor became almost feral. Leaving the house before drawn, wearing nothing but a tattered old pair of jeans, and remained out in the woods behind the house until dark. Once home, He'd ask for Layla to be taken to the study, where he would become almost uncontrollably violent when Layla cringed away from him in horror. He never touched her, but that didn't stop the fear the little girl had for him swelling, causing terrible nightmares.

Birdy began to give the little girl a gentle, less extreme, form of the glow to get her to sleep at night, leaving the older woman totally exhausted, having to calm both Creed and Layla.

This pattern continued for two full weeks until, one night, Creed gave up.

He returned for the woods, walking through the house in a daze. His hair, now matted, lay straggly over his bare shoulders. His body was covered in dirt and the blood of some poor animal that had had the misfortune of bumping into him in such a foul mood. The jeans he wore hadn't been changed in days, not that he cared.

Birdy watched from the living room doorway as he headed up the stairs, not even registering her being. The whole situation was becoming far too stressful for Birdy. Her heart swelled in pity for Layla and now Creed as he appeared to descend into some primal form of depression. If only he had gave her some kind of idea what he'd been trying to do. A reason for him scaring Layla to the point of hysteria. She knew he was trying something, but couldn't tell what. But, she did know how it was affecting him.

Having entered his mind so regularly over the recent weeks, and with his depressed state of mind, Creed had left things unguarded in his mind. Either because he wasn't focused enough to know he'd dropped his guard, or that he simply didn't care anymore.

Once his rages had been calmed, there was a sense of rejection that seemed to grow after every meeting with Layla.

Birdy knew Creed had spent his life rejected. First by his own family, then the human population for his mutant abilities, and now even the mutant community reeled back in horror from him for his crimes and behaviour. This had never concerned Victor though. He'd grown numb to it after the beatings from his father began. But the situation with Layla, it appeared to be the straw that broke the sabre-tooth tigers back.

Birdy could tell he so desperately wanted her to accept him. What for? She didn't know. But the little girl to terrified by him because he simply didn't know how to interact with her properly.

Having watched Creed move up the stairs, heading for his room, Birdy returned to the living room, where Burns sat reading the days papers in front of a huge fireplace.

"Burns? Can I ask a favour of you please?" she asked softly as she approached and sat across from him on the leather sofa.

Burns looked up from his paper, eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"Sure Birdy."

Birdy hesitated asking him. She knew that what she was about to ask of him was dangerous, especially with Creed having a black cloud hanging over his head.  
Burns had developed a special relationship with Layla. As much as the little girl liked Birdy, Burns was always the person Layla ran too and spent her time with when he wasn't busy. The blonde woman quietly hoped Burns could maybe pass some of that trust Layla had from him on to Sabretooth.

"Victor's going to be eating in his room again tonight isn't he?" she asked.

"You know he is Birdy. That's if he even eats his meal tonight." Burns replied sadly. Victor had stopped eating meals a few days ago, demanded alcohol instead.

"Yea, well. I need to ask if you'll talk to him."

Burns' brow dropped as he mentally questioned Birdy's request. "Why? What do you want me to say? If he'd even listen, that is."

Birdy sighed. "I need you to try and convince him that whatever he's doing to try and get Layla to like him, isn't working. I need you to show him a way to get her to trust him without him putting the fear of god into the poor little thing."

Burns leaned back in his seat, staring at Birdy; his expression passing from shocked, to worried, to curious again. "What do you mean by that? By him wanting Layla to like him?"

The woman opposite shrugged, her eyes drifting over to the roaring fireplace.

"When I've gone into his mind, I get this overwhelming feeling of rejection from him. Like he needs Layla to like him. Trust him." she sighed, looking back to Burns. "But he's clearly going about it the wrong way. We both know that. And yes, I know it'll be hard for him to restrain himself, and yes, it'll be hard for us to even get Layla in the same room as him after everything that's happened. But please. I think he'll end up doing something..." Birdy felt her heart tighten with worry. She knew Creed wasn't mentally stable. _Everyone_ knew Victor Creed wasn't mentally stable. Something like this could really push him to something he wouldn't be able to come back from.

"Ok. Ok, I'll speak to him when I go up. I can't promise he'll listen though. But I'll give it a shot. He's never ignored anything I've said before." Burns smiled, placing a comforting hand on Birdy's.

Birdy knew Burns was right. Sabretooth wasn't really interested in other people's opinions and thoughts, but he had a certain respect for Burns. The man never spoke out of turn, or questioned Mr Creed's actions or orders. When Burns did speak to Creed, The feral mutant usually listened.

The pair smiled at each other, before Burns shifted from his seat, letting Birdy's hand go.

"I'll just go and get dinner started then. I think I've got a plan. But at the end of the day, it's down to Creed." He chirped to her as he left the room and headed for the kitchen.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Victor sat in the silence and darkness of his bedroom, Bottle of bourbon in hand. With his back on the headboard of his bed and his head leaning against the wall behind, he sat and listened.

He could hear Layla down the hallway in her room. She seemed to be singing or humming something. It hurt his chest to think of her smiling happily as she played. She was so sweet. Innocent.

Anger boiling, Victor slammed his head back against the wall as hard as he could, hoping it would knock him out some. Dizziness clouded his mind for a moment or two, before his goddamn healing factor kicked in and cleared his head. He snarled at the process. The same process that stopped him from getting drunk. Oh how he wished to get drunk.

Sighing, he closed his eyes. Why couldn't he get it right? Why couldn't Layla just remember and then he wouldn't be sat in his dark room, depressing himself over things that will possibly never happen?

Muffled footsteps sounded from down the hall as they reached the top of the stairs. There was the clink of cutlery as the steps headed towards him room.

Victor heard Layla stop singing, or whatever the fuck she was doing, and call to Burns as he made his way down the hall.

Layla trusted Burns. Victor got that much. But that wasn't what he wanted. Burns was the hired help. Not her carer. Her guardian. That was Victor's job. And he so desperately wanted the kid to see that. Though Burns had qualities Creed didn't, like the ability to be sociable. To be good with kids. That wasn't the kind of thing Victor Creed dealt in. He murdered, maimed and destroyed all those around him. That was how he'd always been and it was the way he was going to stay, or so he tried to tell himself. The truth was, he wanted Layla to love him. He didn't want to murder, maim or destroy and single thing about her.

She was his to keep. And he wanted her.

There was an expected knock at the door and Creed shrugged, grunting for Burns to enter.

Burns walked in and blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the dark. Victor had closed the blinds as far as they would close and was sitting in the middle of his bed with a bottle resting on his right knee, staring at Burns with amber eyes that shone through the dank of the room.

"Mr Creed." Burns nodded respectfully as he placed the tray at the foot of the bed in front of Creed.

Victor didn't answer, simply watched the man in silence, taking a swig from the bourbon bottle. Burns seemed to hesitate in leaving the room, inhaling a deep breath as if to speak, only to let it out again in a pitiful sigh.

"If ya got somethin' ta say ta me Burns. Go ahead an' say it." Victor drawled miserably as he picked at the bottles label.

Burns took another deep breath before starting. "Mr Creed." She started his voice even and steady. Victor wondered where this conversation was going to head, but remain silent.

"About Layla..."

"What about 'er?" the feral snapped, not happy with the subject.

"I...I know it's none my business..."

"Too right!" He growled from the darkness.

"But...But I think, if you'll let me...I might be able to help."

Victor quietened for a moment. What did he mean by help? Didn't he think he could handle some brat?

"Layla's having trouble with you, because she's scared." Burns continued, a little more confident.

"No shit Sherlock!" Victor barked.

"She just needs a little encouragement. That's all."

"And how, can I ask, am I mean ta do that if she won't come near me, Burns?" Victor growled again. Sometimes, as useful as Burns could be, he did chat shit. Burns paused before starting again, as if thinking carefully about his next few words.

"I might have a way to make her trust you Mr Creed." He offered quietly. "But you'll need to hold your composure and be patient. It probably won't work straight away, but it _will_ work."

Victor held back the growl that rumbled in his chest. He didn't like the idea of his hired help telling him how to act. Had Burns not peaked an interest in Creed; he might well have brained the other man.

"How?" he asked.

Burns gave a slight smile before restraining himself and turning to leave. Victor rolled his eyes as the other man left the room. What was the fucking point? He waited, snorting in his aggravation. Burns returned moments later, carrying a silver bowl, its contents covered by a matching silver lid.

The object pulled at Creeds feline curiosity and he leaned forward on his bed as Burns placed the bowl on the bedside table. The other man paused for a moment, for dramatic effect Victor supposed, before lifting the lid slowly. Victor watched at ruby shaped and coloured fruits came into view, still covered in droplets of water after being freshly cleaned.

Victor looked over the strawberries, clearly unimpressed with Burns idea, his lip pulling back into a disgusted sneer at the fruits. With one long claw, he leaned in; stabbing one of the plump strawberries and gingerly sniffed it.

He visibly cringed at the smell; he didn't even bother to think of trying some. Fruit just simply wasn't his thing.

"An' this crap will work?" He asked Burns, flicking the strawberry into the wastepaper bin next to his bed.

"Of course Mr Creed. She likes Strawberries."

Victor gave one more glare at the bowl in front of him and waved it away, burns scooping it up and covering the strawberries with the silver lid again.

"Whatever. just get 'em out of my sight." He growled pulling a face.

Burns smiled.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Birdy stood back as she watched Creed brush his hair before pulling it back into a ponytail at the base of his skull. She _really _hoped Burns' idea worked. If not, there wasn't much of a back up plan.

Victor Brushed off his shoulders in the full length mirror. He'd actually sided with the idea of wearing a shirt this time, much to Birdy's relief. A black Polo shirt, with black LV slacks. Casual, without looking scruffy.

"Just remember. Stay calm." She offered gently as she fetched his shoes.

"I don't need ya tellin' me what ta do Birdy." He snapped back.

"I...I'm just saying Boss. It'll help, that's all." Before Birdy could close her mouth she received a clip to the side head, causing her to yelp.

"Goddamnit Frail! I told ya! Stop tellin' me what ta do already!" He almost yelled, raising his hand to strike her again. Birdy cowered back, bumping into the dresser.

"Mr Creed?" Burns called from the doorway, stopping Creed mid hit.

"What?" Creed barked.

"Layla's asking for Birdy. She needs to get dressed." The other man replied, entering the room.

Victor sneered, but backed off Birdy allowing her to quickly scurry from the room, smiling thankfully at Burns as she passed. The older man simply winked, and closed the door after her.

"Jesus, woman." Victor mumbled as he went back to primping himself in the mirror, pulling a little ball of fluff from his black slacks.

"Mr Creed?"

"What?" He growled, not bothering to turn to look at Burns. He knew what he was going to say. And unlike Birdy, the guy wouldn't cower under threatening.

"For once. Only once Victor..." _So its getting personal, is it_? "Listen to what Birdy's told ya. Take it easy and stay calm."

Victor muttered under his breath while pulling at the material of his shirt. "I aint a Goddamn baby sitter Burns."

"True. But you _are _Layla's guardian. And she needs stability Vic."

"Well then 'er daddy left 'er ta tha wrong person then didn't he!" Victor snarled, stepping up to Burns, who glared back at him without even flinching.

"You asked for her Vic." He responded quietly. "Or have you forgotten that recently?"

With a snort of aggravation, Victor turned and headed for his bedside table, grabbing another bottle of drink he kept to help him sleep.

"Victor." Burns trailed after him. " You've been preparing for this since coming home the day after she was born. You've made plans for her. Sure, it's a little...Ok, a lot earlier than you wanted, but she's here now."

Victor stared longingly at the whiskey bottle. He absently remarked, "I can't raise a Kid Burns..." He let the statement hang in the air. Both men knew he wasn't the fathering, caring type. Not now, and not ever.

"I know. But that's why me and Birdy are here Vic. We're gonna help." Burns placed a hand on Creed's shoulder and shrugged. "You've just gotta learn to relax. If only with Layla. Your too tense about being round her."

Victor shrugged off his hand, leaving Burns standing alone as he rounded the bed and stood in front of the mirror again.

"Fuck off Burns." He mumbled.

Burns chuckled, rounding the bed and heading for the door.

"We'll wait till you're settled in the study before bringing Layla. The strawberries are already in there, in the chilled bowl. And for God sakes, stay calm." He told Victor. The feral mutant nodded without a word and Burns left.

"Why?"

"Why what, honey?" Birdy asked, helping Layla tug her t shirt over her head.

"Why do I have to see Mr Creed again. I don't wanna. I get scared." The little girl whined pitifully.

Birdy sighed. She gently straightened up Layla's shirt and Jeans, patting away any fluff as she went. "It'll be different this time Layla. I promise."

"But what if it isn't?" Layla sniffed, leaning in to hug Birdy. The older woman rubbed her back, comforting her and hoping that she wasn't lying to her. "Layla. It _will _be different this time. Burns has talked with you and Mr Creed and he says that you two should be ok this time."

Layla's big blue eyes looked up at Birdy's. "Will Burns be there with us?"

Birdy shook her head. "Burns says you two need to become friends on your own. Not with him or me there."

Layla groaned into Birdy's shoulder, her grip on Birdy's shirt becoming tighter. "I don't wanna..."

The door to the study closed without a sound. Victor didn't want Burns or Birdy to think he was ready yet, because he simply wasn't.

Sitting on the sofa, he tucked a few loose strands of hair behind his ear and turned his attention to the silver bowl sat on the new coffee table. Birdy had all the furniture in the room replaced after his and Layla's first meeting, but he'd managed to break the new coffee table every time after that. Hopefully this one would survive this meeting.

The bowl still had ice up the sides, showing that it had been chilled up until not long ago.

Gingerly leaning over the bowl, Sabretooth lifted the silver lid and almost jumped back from the horribly sickly sweet smell. How this was ever going to work was beyond him. He didn't doubt Layla like the juicy red fruits, but he knew it would take him a lot of will power not to leave the room because of their goddamn smell.

He quickly replaced the lid and sat back. He needed to chill. Absently, his hand wondered to the side table next to the sofa, finding the well used ash tray, and the cigar that sat in it, forgotten until that moment. Victor rolled the half smoked cigar between his fingers, contemplating whether to smoke the rest to help with his anxiety.

_What if she starts cryin' again? What if she cowers in tha corner like the last time? Why am I dealin' with this shit alone? Why isn't Birdy or Burns in 'ere tryin' ta help? Fuckin' slackers. I should sack 'em and snuff 'em out!_ Victor thought bitterly. He was pretty sure he was about as reluctant to do this as the little girl was. He wasn't a kid person. They irritated the shit out of him. Although, Layla hadn't made such a nuisance of herself. He guessed it could have been so much worse.

Layla played quietly. She rarely spoke and seemed reserved and intelligent. She stayed out of his way, more than he would have preferred, but he'd hopefully work on that. She did, however, have the irritating habit of following Burns around like his was some kind of protection. That made Victor's jaw tighten.

The little girl was fucking with his head. He was sure of it now. Finally sitting up, he reached for the matches on the coffee table and lit the cigar. Sure, he was protective over his stuff, but why the fuck would he be jealous of the guy he hired to take care of his house, just because some little brat liked him more than Victor?

There was a knock on the door, and Burns' face peered round the wood of the door.

"Ready?" He asked. He could see the bitterness in Victor's expression, but it was now or never. Layla was still complaining about having to be in the same room as Creed, but she wasn't crying or screaming, so it was best to try it now she was as calm as she would be.

Victor grunted, sucking on the cigar and swallowing back the smoke, allowing it to burn his throat and lungs.

Burns nodded and closed the door again.

Burns turned to Birdy and Layla who were waiting down the hallway. "Ok Layla. Are you ready?"

The little girl shook her head and Birdy sighed. "I promise it won't be bad Layla. Please. Just try for me and Burns, please?"

Layla looked between Birdy and Burns, becoming a little confused by their different expressions. Birdy looked tired and tense about the whole situation. She'd been muttering to herself all morning about Layla not being up to his kind of mental punishment again. Layla hadn't really known what she was talking about, but it didn't sound good.

Burns, on the other hand, looked relaxed, and ...happy? Layla couldn't be sure. Her daddy had taught her how to read people, telling her it was important for her to understand the people she would meet in her life, but the expression Burns gave were hard to understand. He seemed pleased about something. Confident even. About what exactly? Layla hadn't the faintest idea.

"Ok." Layla said quietly. He legs moved slowly as she edged toward burns. She stopped just in front of him, eyes falling on the door expectantly.

"Now Layla." Burns Voice soothed down at her. Layla looked back up at him, their eyes meeting.

"Remember what we talked about. Give Mr Creed a chance this time before you get scared. There really isn't anything to be worried about." _Apart from the crazy man in the room with her_ she thought to herself.

"This is important you and Mr Creed get on Layla. Please try. Mr Creed isn't going to eat you." Burns chuckled. Layla wasn't so confident, but she nodded and Burns smiled, patting her on the head and reaching for the door handle.

"Mr Creed." Burns greeted respectfully as he opened the door, nudging Layla in just before him. Mr Creed didn't answer. His eyes were closed as his head rested against the back of the sofa.

Burns nudged Layla again, causing her to look up at him. "Go on." He whispered. She didn't understand what he meant until he motioned to armchair off to the side of the sofa. She gulped and nodded, taking nervous steps further into the room.

She eyed Creed all the way to the chair, only looking away when she heard the door click closed behind her.

Victor could feel her eyes watching him, even though his senses were clouded by the cigar smoke. Her little heart was hammering in her chest, but at least she wasn't crying.

There was a yelp of surprise when he spoke.

"Layla."

Se remained quiet, staring nervously as a grin spread slowly across his face, revealing the set of sharp teeth that he kept hidden behind his lips. His eyes opened and fell over to her, now seated on the edge of the armchair. She shuddered at his gaze. His eyes were a darker blue than hers, like a clear sky in summer. The stare was strong and piercing, as if he was looking straight into her soul.

The sting of tears made her eyes itch. She turned her eyes away, looking over at the silver bowl, not really noticing what it was as she tried not to look back at Creed.

Layla appeared to physically shrink under Victor's stare. The smell of fear rolled off her, tainting the air in the room.

"Layla?" He purred again, watching curiously as she jumped at the use of her name. "Not gonna answer?" he asked her. She twitched as she tried not to shake.

"I know ya speak frail. That shit might have played out well when ya first got 'ere, but I've heard ya talkin' to Burns and Birdy." He drawled, taking a drag from his smouldering cigar. Layla remained silent and still in her seat.

"Why not me? Don't cha wanna talk ta me frail?" He was actually quite surprised when she shook her head. Well at least she was listening.

"Why?" He purred, trying to cover the growl that was growing in his chest.

When she didn't answer, Victor huffed in aggravation and tapped his claws against the arm of the sofa as his frustration began to build.

"Are ya scared of me Layla?" He asked a little more firmly. Her eyes finally lifted from the bowl on the table to look at his face, only to look away again once she saw his scowl.

"I'll take that as a yes then, shall I?" Sinking back into the plush sofa a little, he finally looked over at the bowl holding the strawberries.

"So, I guessin' ya don't want these then?" He kicked the table softly, causing the bowl the jump.

Layla's gaze on the bowl suddenly focused and she realised where she'd seen the bowl before. Victor noticed her eyes grow with realisation.

"Ya know what's in tha bowl Layla?" he smirked. Layla went to nod, but stopped herself at the last moment.

Victor saw her reaction, and allowed his smirk to drop into mock sadness.

"No? Oh well. I guess ya don't want any then, huh frail?" he sighed, leaning forward and lifting the lid on the bowl.

He watched out the corner of his eye as Layla's eyes grew wide as she watched over the strawberries. The smirk tried to creep back, but he swallowed it and managing to keep his sad expression.

"Well..." Victor shrugged. "Looks like I'm gonna have ta eat 'em all by my one." And with that, leaned over the bowl and stabbed a strawberry with a sharp black claw. Victor's insides tightened with disgust at what he was going to do. Jesus, was he that desperate to be liked? A small voice managed to shout over the others in his mind. _ATTENTION WHORE!_

Victor shook it off, since when had he started listening to the voices? It was only one strawberry. How bad could it be?

He sat back, taking one last glance over at Layla who was watching him in curiosity. Inhaling, he opened his mouth a pushed the strawberry in and chewed. It took a second or two, but he couldn't hold back the cringe when it came. Covering his mouth with his hand, he tried not to gag. Damn! Why the fuck did he do that?

He cringed again as he swallowed. There was a snort of laughter from the armchair, and Victor looked over to Layla, who was trying to hold back her laughter with her hand. A growl soon set her straight, the smile dropping, along with the laughter.

They sat in silence for a moment or two before Victor finally gagged and began to curse. His face contorted and twisted with disgust.

"You don't really like strawberries, do you?" a tiny voice paused his swearing. Looking over, he raised an eyebrow at Layla's smiling face.

"No." He grunted, grabbing the bottle of whiskey from the table and gulping down the contents.

"It was pretty dumb to eat one then wasn't it?" Layla shrugged.

Victor almost slammed the bottle down on the table in raising anger. "I only did it to be spiteful to _you!_" He snapped.

Layla's smiled disappeared and her bottom lip began to tremble, quickly followed by her eyes tearing up.

It dawned on Victor as he watched the little girl, that he'd probably just fucked up the little progress he'd just made with her. _Fuck!_

Running his clawed hands through his hair and over his face he huffed. "I was only pullin' ya leg frail. Don't start ya damn cryin'!"

Surprisingly, Layla's tears didn't fall. Instead, something in her seemed to bristle in anger.

"Your mean!" she snapped unexpectedly.

Victor blinked in confusion. "Whoa?"

"YOU! You're a mean, mean man!" She bit back at him. "And deaf too if you didn't hear me!"

Victor's jaw slacked. He certainly hadn't expected this. "I'm mean am I, Layla?"

"Yes." She said firmly.

"I'm mean? Oh, sure. I'm mean. I've given you that room, all those toys. This house to live in! And I'm mean?" He hissed.

"Yes!" she snapped, almost throwing herself forward from her chair. "You've been nothing but mean to me since I got here! You've been mean. You've scared me! And you smell!"

Victor growled. "Hey! I showered this morning!"

"I don't care." Layla recoiled. "You smell to me."

Victor sat dumb, before laughter ripped free of his being. He threw himself back into the sofa, shaking with the force of his laughter. The action only seemed to anger Layla more, her little, heart shaped face blushing with rage.

"Now you're laughing at me!" she snarled. It was a snarl Victor himself would have been proud of, if only he hadn't been laughing so hard.

"I aint laughin' at you frail." He managed to pant out.

"Well who then? 'Cos there's no one else in the room." She snapped back.

Victor inhaled deep, trying to regain himself. "I just weren't expectin' ya ta be so gutsy, that's all frail."

Layla sat glaring at him. Her tiny arms crossed over her chest. "And stop calling me that!" she demanded. "My name's Layla you stupid man."

"Yea. I'd guessed that one." Victor chuckled sarcastically.

"I hope you get hit by a truck." She growled under her breath.

"Yea, and if ya keep hoping fer shit like that frail, I'm gonna dangle ya outta a 3rd floor window by ya socks."

"meanie." She scowled.

"Always have been, and always will be, kiddo. So ya better learn ta like it. Quickly." Her purred, grinning over at her.

Silence descended on them again and Victor sighed. He was actually quite pleased. He liked the fact she had venom in her when she needed it. She'd just have to learn not to keep using it on him.

"So ya want ya damn strawberries or not?" he asked her as he stretched out on the sofa.

Layla stared at the bowl. He could see she wanted them, but she wasn't attempting to near them at all.

"You'll just take them off me if I try to get one." She spat.

"Fuck off and stop being stupid frail. I aint interested in whether ya eat the damn things or not, just as long as ya stop snappin' at me." He rolled his eyes and yawned.

She shuffled from her seat, reaching out to the bowl, and pulling it to her by her tiny fingertips. Victor had closed his eyes and was listening contently to the soft squelching as she chewed the fruits.

"Mr Creed?" she asked, breaking the quiet.

"What?"

"I still hate you and I still think you're a dick..." that one caught him off guard. "But thank you for my toys."

Glancing at her, not quite sure he liked her new found confidence, he shrugged. "Sure, whatever."

It wasn't long until his peace was broken again, this time by a nudging on his thigh. Opening his eyes again, she glared at Layla and the bowl of fruit in her grip.

"Move your legs please. I wanna sit on the sofa."

He scowled and snorted. "No." Layla rolled her eyes and nudged his leg again when he closed his eyes. "You're a dick. Ya know that." She sneered.

"Do ya even know what you're on about frail?" he snapped, grabbing the front of her shirt and pulling her up to sit on his abdomen.

"I do actually." She sneered arrogantly again. "It means your being mean to me again."

"Alright frail. Whatever, now just shut up, before I show ya what a real dick I am!"


	11. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

**1 week later.**

A very dull looking fiat multipla pulled up at the gates to Creed's home. The woman driving it looked no younger and 50, with a scowling expression and her graying hair pulled back into a bun at the back of her head. Thin designer glasses covered her fading , off white eyes as they gave the outside the once over before she rolled down the window and stretched a bony hand out to press the buzzer.

"Hello?"

"This is Courtney Roy, from child services. I'm here to check on the little girl, Layla."

"Oh, yes, of course. I'll open the gates." Birdy chirped from the other end.

The gates opened and Mrs. Roy drove up the driveway. Birdy and Burns were already stood at the front door as the older woman left her car. Both were dressed well and were under strict instruction from Creed.

"Good morning." Mrs. Roy greeted them both as she made her way up the steps. Both greeted her and Burns led the way as they entered the house.

"Well. This is very impressive." Their guest commented.

"Yes. Mr. Creed likes extravagant things. This house is just one of them." Birdy smiled.

The older woman untucked a clipboard from under her arm, pulling a pencil out of her inner pocket and began to scribble away.

"And Layla has the run of the house does she?" she asked.

"She does. She tends to stay in her room though. She likes playing with her new toys more than wondering about and get under our feet." Burns Chuckled.

Mrs. Roy nodded and continued to write.

"Well, erm. Mr. Creed and Layla are in his office. If you wish to see them." Birdy began to walk off in the direction of the office.

"Er, not right now thank you." The other woman stopped her. "I wish to ask you two a few questions about Layla and your employer, away from them if you don't mind. I'd also like to see the child's room and some of the rest of the house." She drawled, as she scribbled.

Birdy and Burns looked between each other, before Burns smiled and headed to the staircase. "Of course Mrs. Roy. This way." Birdy followed close behind them.

Burns led the way to Layla's room, even opening the door for the inspector. The woman began to look round the room, making note and asking questions.

"And what, exactly, do you do Miss?" she turned to Birdy who was waiting at the Door with Burns.

"Oh. I'm Mr. Creed's assistant. I take care of Mr. Creed's business affairs and transactions, as well as His well being and Layla's."

The old woman nodded and wrote something down. "And you?" she pointed to Burns.

"I take care of Mr. Creed's properties and general requirements. I also help with Layla."

Another nod.

"How do you two believe Layla is settling in?"

Burns stepped forward a little. "Layla had some trouble settling in for the first two weeks. But she's fine now."

The older woman looked over at Layla's steiff lion from over the rims of her glasses. It had been played with and pulled about since Creed brought it around a month ago, but it still looked impressive.

"Yes. Well that's to be expected. When I child looses their parents and gets sent to a strange home, with strange people, they tend to have issues at first. That's a very impressive toy."

Burns nodded.

"Yes. I understand." He looked over to the lion and smiled. "Mr. Creed brought it for her arrival. It's her favorite."

Mrs. Roy nodded and the three of them left Layla's room.

"So, does Layla have a nanny? Some who takes care of her full time?" she asked Birdy. Birdy shrugged. "Not really. Mr. Creed has the luxury of being able to pick when he works, so he tends to stay home for a while. When Mr. Creed and I have to leave for work, Burns is here, so Layla's never going to be alone or with someone unknown to her."

"Mr. Creed's funny about strangers in and around the house anyway, so He'd make sure one of us were around for her." Burns butted in.

"Good. Good." The inspector nodded and wrote down her thoughts. "And, Layla's the only child?"

Both Birdy and Burns bit their tongs. The thought of Creed having more kid running around the house was juts too damned funny.

"Yes." Birdy managed to get out. "Mr. Creed's not normally a child person. He's not too good with people anyways, but he and Layla are getting on fine."

"Now" Muttered under his breath.

"Ok." Mrs. Roy muttered down at her clipboard. "And have you had any problems with Layla's behavior?"

"No." Burns said firmly. "She's been as good as gold."

In no time, the three had been round the house and were finally stood in front of Creed's office.

Inside, Creed finally pushed over the bowl of strawberries he'd been denying Layla since they'd first entered the room.

"Now be quiet and be good." He muttered.

"I'm always good." She said through a mouth full of strawberries.

"Yea. Right."

"I am!" she insisted. "It's you who acts like a dick all the time."

"Your always gonna call me that aint ya?" he chuckled.

"Yep." She nodded. Victor sighed and listened to the voices outside the door. He'd finally managed to get Layla to talk to him normally, even if she was still calling him a dick. He didn't mind though. He'd been called worse. Now, she sat happily on his knee as they sat at his desk, eating her goddamn strawberries while they waited for the child services Officer to come in and ask stupid questions about progress.

If only the woman knew!

* * *

**Hey all!**

**Thanks for reading, and reviewing. **

**I'm actually really proud of this fanfic (dunno why lol) But yea. **

**There will be a sequel, mainly because this story is driving me mad and because of that, I'm unable to think of anything else! lol. But the sequel wont be just yet (sorry Ella) I have my Monster of Rock fanfic to finish (only one chapter yay!) and then I have my TLAW: cubs play on DA to get up to date. **

**once again, cheers for read and reviewing. you know who you are! 3**

**Jo. **


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